A vast assembly was held across the military camp, on the fields stood almost a thousand newly appointed troops, forming a vast formations along the fields, their discipline firm and steady, their movements calm and precise, as if they had already rehearsed it a million times.
Facing the army was Mong Mon, along with five commanders who stood in an orderly line, their posture straight, almost refined.
Mong Mon swept his gaze along the unmoving troops, his expression calm yet his eyes showed visible traces of satisfaction.
Beside him stood a mountain of armor, purely made by iron and steel, heavy, yet it carried security and protection in times of battle.
Mong Mon turned his head toward the generals and gave a slight nod, as if giving a signal only the general could understand.
The general stepped in immediately, he narrowed his eyes as he looked at the formation of troops with a terrifying gaze.
The troops remained unmoving, their bodies were completely stiff as if all their joints were locked shut.
"Spearmen, step forward." General Hobak shouted, his voice loud and firm.
Countless soldiers immediately stepped forward, they tightened their formation as they marched with synchronized rhythm and precision.
"Form a stright line and receive your amor and weapons." General Hobak said, already holding a full set of armor and a spear.
The soldiers quickly formed a straight line, their formation unbroken, their discipline unwavering.
Soon, the generals handed out hundreds of complete set of armor to the soldiers, along countless weapons and shields.
Right after the distribution, a proper army now stood in a square formation, clad in shining armor, all armed to the teeth.
Mong Mon looked at the army with utter satisfaction, yet even with a proper army, they still stood no chance against the vast strength of the western and southern kingdom who commanded more than one hundred thousand troops, all harshly trained, all proper elites.
Just as confidence began to disintegrate, a figure suddenly appeared out of thin air.
It was Roy, and in his hand was a rifle, a modern-day weapon capable of mass destruction.
Mong Mon looked at the gun on Roy's hand, and immediately remember the six hundred men who were selected as the firearms unit, envy surged through Mong Mon's eyes like a flood.
Roy sensed the expression of the strategist, he suddenly let out a quite sigh, as if about to tell a harsh truth.
"Mong Mon," Roy said, his voice low and calm, almost cold, "do you understand the reason why I cannot let the rest of the army use this weapon?"
Mong Mon immediately dropped to the ground, kneeling on one knee as he bowed deeply.
During his service in Zudrath City, he had already recognized Roy quietly, as a god who had descended from heaven, a benevolent and righteous immortal who manifested in the mortal realm to save the world.
He immediately asked with a hurried tone, curiosity visible in his voice.
"This humble servant wants to know, Lord Zudra," Mong Mon asked cautiously, "if such a weapon were handed to the rest of the soldiers, nothing will be able to stop the expansion of our city."
Roy let out a soft sigh, disdain evident in his breath.
"This weapon is actually not created by the gods, it was created by you."
Mong Mon's eyes immediately widened from shock, utterly stunned by the God's words, yet before he could say a word, Roy quickly continued speaking, as if not wanting to give the man a moment to retaliate.
"A few hundred years from now, your kind will eventually develop the knowledge on how to create this weapon. And when that time comes, this world, along with your kind will inevitably fall into chaos and destruction, not because the gods intervened, but because of your own greed for wealth and lust for power."
Roy swept his gaze across the unmoving troops, his expression suddenly becoming solemn and dark, as if saying a heavy secret that would eventually become true.
"In this world, power is law, not because it was how the world was created, but because it was the rule you have established yourselves. You conquer other territories because you were capable of doing so, you kill innocent people without getting imprisoned or sentenced to jail because someone is backing you, yet those who do not have power were tortured, beaten, or killed."
"So those who do not possess the ability or the strength to retaliate, will have no choice but to seek power of their own not because they wanted to, but because they have to in order to survive."
Mong Mon's expression immediately turned solemn, not because of the title and power he holds, but because what Roy said was exactly the truth.
Mong Mon did not dare to deny that fact, because when he was a child, he had also experienced the same treatment of a powerless man who was humiliated and tortured by figures who has immense power or backing, and that dark past was the reason of why he had dreamt of joining the military, so he can gain strength to retaliate.
Yet it was his own reason why realization had struck him faster than anyone, because he has no reasonable argument to deny the truth.
"With this weapon," Roy continued, his tone remaining calm, yet firm, "you will gain the power of conquering the entire world, you will gain the strength to kill a man with a single pull of the trigger, you will have an incomparable authority to decide wether who dies or who lives."
"Such a dangerous source of power, given to hungry predators like you who do not recognize morality and social justice, are no different than raising a starving lion in a herd of fat sheeps."
With that, Roy left without another word, he simply vanished without a trace like thin air, yet on the ground was the firearm he has been holding earlier.
Mong Mon looked at the firearm with cold eyes, his expression dark and gloomy, as if a storm cloud had been lingering above his head.
He stared at the firearm for a long time until dawn began to settle across the horizon.